


Detention

by tsuruko (orphan_account)



Series: reeeeeally old fic [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tsuruko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn't know that the other had gotten detention until Kenma slides into the desk in front of Kuroo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detention

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a little notebook that [Lina](https://twitter.com/segseu) gave me while I was on lunch today!! It's based on [this image](https://twitter.com/yooroongoo/status/502958680816381952/photo/1), and all of my KurooKen is dedicated to Lina, really (this is just a short thing but y'know asdfghj). BUT HEY HOPE YOU THINK IT'S CUTE!!

They didn't know that the other had gotten detention until Kenma slides into the desk in front of Kuroo, the rings of his notebook scraping along the wood harshly, Kuroo's head cocking to the side behind him. Nekoma's captain had found his way to detainment after school for being late too many times—his second period is the worst, he groans in protest and explanation, boring and too long and Kenma had distracted him with a kiss to the underside of his jaw during their break between lessons—but the real mystery was how Kenma had gotten there, _why_ , really, because in the years Kuroo had known him, there was nothing in particular he could pick up on that would somehow translate to Kenma's very sudden and unexpected bout of delinquency. 

When he tells Kuroo in the form of a note passed that he was there because he had downloaded a new game on his phone and was tapping away at it while his teacher was trying to explain the finer points of trigonometry, Kuroo's only response is a deadpan, though not surprised in the least (he should have known, really), stare at the back of Kenma's head.

He chuckles, slumps forward and curls his arms to pillow his chin, his head, hands brushing Kenma's back. Fingers press and draw shapes and symbols into the sweater that's just a bit too big for Kenma, and their hands brush when Kuroo's finally laying down. Kenma shifts, holds his book open with his left hand while the right takes Kuroo's long fingers in his own, arm tucked to his stomach, crossing over himself. Behind him, Kuroo hums softly, the sound content and Kenma is glad, quietly, that he's not alone at the very least, that, even with Kuroo's breathing evening out into a probably uncomfortable nap bunched up in a desk that he's too big for, he doesn't have to sit there alone, that even little touches like their fingers twined together are enough to feel like home to him.  


End file.
